Under My Skin and In My Blood
by Moritarty-and-Crumblebatch
Summary: Stalker!Jim AU. Jim is certain Sherlock is his equal, they are nothing short of made for one another. And he'll do anything to make sure Sherlock knows it. WIP. Will become smutty as it progresses.
1. Chapter 1

The mind of a human being is not that much different from a computer in the terms of input, processing and output. But a human mind is more intricate and wonderful than a mass of wires and electrodes in so many different ways. From the tiny electrical signals pulsing through the brain to regulate breathing, temperature and heart rate all at once. Pity humanity couldn't put their minds to better use; it was such a waste of beautiful engineering. Jim rarely sought the company of actual humans, finding them too dull after a while. Jim could figure them out after a mere hour in their company. See how their minds processed the sensory information around them. The few people he chose to be around were carefully selected for their purposes. Sebastian Moran, the one he trusted above most was a crack shot and as cold hearted a man as Jim. He had unswerving loyalty in his boss, carrying out commands with a merciless efficiency. But his brain was still ordinary in comparison. Jim knew how it worked; Sebastian was so predictable in his actions and behaviours. What Jim wanted was an intellectual equal. He looked for someone who _used _their mind to its fullest capacity. Someone he could never quite pin down, someone whose mind was as restless as his.

That someone was Sherlock Holmes.

The exact way Jim had discovered _The Science of Deduction _was quite simple, people love to talk, whether they think you're listening or not. Idle gossip passed along to him, and it set in motion his curiosity for this man. He read the front page of the blog belonging to self titled 'Consulting Detective' and smiled thinly to himself. There was a man who was bored with the people around him, bored with their predicable behaviours and insignificant problems. What Sherlock looked for was something interesting and new to alleviate the monotony of life. Here Jim swore he felt his heart skip a beat, as cliché reaction as it was to finding the intellectual and emotional equal of yourself. Sherlock wanted to help those ordinary people, how adorable a concept. Jim helped them too, he helped them to realise their deepest desires and made it happen. Same sentiment, different side. 'Why does he want to show these stupid people around him kindness?' Jim wondered as he scanned through the case files. But that could be altered, all Sherlock needed was to know he wasn't the only person in the world with such a brilliant mind. Then he would stop playing with the ordinary people and come and play with him.

In the space of two hours Jim had read through the entire blog several times, analysing and storing every small detail he could about Sherlock and his work, and he wanted_ more_. But Sherlock seemed to keep himself well hidden from the public eye, there were no photographs of him, or mentions in newspaper articles about the crimes he had helped to solve. Jim sat back in his chair; this was going to require some research and a fair amount of legwork.


	2. Chapter 2

**[Thanks to all who've already followed/favourited and reviewed! I'll try and update once a week, but it will be subject to work etc. For clarification, this is around the start of Study in Pink and will progress through S1. I hope you all enjoy it!]**

_Dear Sherlock,_

Jim paused, and then deleted it.

_Dear Mr Holmes,_

Better.

_I read your blog 'The Science of Deduction' recently and the process you use to work the cases out is fascinating. I am curious to know if this was something you yourself developed or if this was an existing idea that you merely adopted_

_I share your weariness for the world, the simplicity of a person's mind. Our minds are alike in the way we need constant stimulation. You may not think it true, but you aren't the only man in the world with such a logical mind. I find it easy to read people, understand them and their behaviour quickly. _

_I was wondering if you could send further detail about this process you call "The Science of Deduction"?_

_Yours faithfully,_

He paused again, would it be unwise to sign his name just yet? After a moment's thought, Jim merely signed it,

_M_

That would suffice for now; he didn't need to know much more than that. He wrote a PO Box address at the top of the page, again it would be a little dangerous to be revealing his actual identity just yet. Jim read the small letter through to himself a few times, once certain it was to his satisfaction he printed out and carefully slipped it into an envelope and sealed it. "Sebastian!" He called, "Sebastian! I have a job for you!" There was a sound of approaching footsteps,

"What?" Sebastian appeared in the doorway, hair dishevelled and face lined with tiredness. He had just finished a job and must have been asleep when Jim had called.

"What, _sir._" Jim corrected him.

"Alright then, what is it you want _sir?"_

"221B Baker Street." Jim held the envelope out to Sebastian. He looked at the envelope and then to Jim,

"Why do you need me to play postman?"

"Don't ask questions Moran, just do it." Jim watched as Sebastian's pupils dilated, he had been around him long enough to learn that when Jim referred to him by his surname it could only mean trouble. Sebastian swallowed and took the envelope from him,

"Sorry boss." He muttered. Jim made a small humming noise and turned his attention to the computer screen. Sebastian was still stood watching him, "Who is he?" He asked, "Sherlock Holmes?"

"I don't see if that is any of your business." Jim said coolly. "But if you must know he's an extraordinary man who's caught my attention. Compared to him, Sebastian, you're brain dead. Now please go deliver that letter before I lose my temper with you." He said rather curtly. Sebastian looked as if he was about to say something in reply, but he held back and left without a word.

The letterbox rattled as something was pushed through it, and there was a soft thud as something hit the mat. Mrs Hudson rose from her chair, muttering to herself about advertising leaflets, to see what it was. Carefully she bent down and picked the envelope up, "Sherlock!" She called as she began to climb the stairs to 221B, "You've got a letter, and you haven't even been here a day!" Sherlock was sat in the armchair, clearly lost in his thoughts with his fingers tented before his mouth. He sighed, and held out one hand to Mrs Hudson which she placed the envelope in.

"Common stationary stocked in every newsagent across the country." He mused, hooking one finger under the opening and carefully ripping it open, "Did you see who delivered it Mrs Hudson?"

"No, it just came through the letter box." Mrs Hudson was flitting about, tidying up pieces of paper that had already been carelessly scattered about. "I thought it was just more advertising leaflets at first."

"Hm." Sherlock read the letter through, and then carefully folded it over. "I have a potential flatmate coming over later as you know, but I might not be in when he arrives."

"Ooh! Who is he?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"Doctor John Watson. He's a military doctor, well, ex-military. I met him at St Barts." Sherlock replied. He carefully slipped the letter back into the envelope.

"Who was it from?"

"It's nothing." Sherlock stood up, pocketing the letter. "Fan mail."

"_Fan_ mail?" Mrs Hudson echoed, "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. You are incredibly good at what you do."

"A fan isn't necessarily a good thing for someone like me. I rely a lot on anonymity; people shouldn't know who I am. It has the danger to make me a target, Mrs Hudson."

"Fair enough, I thought you would be pleased at some recognition. Having a fan just shows you're...respected in a way by another."

"A thank you usually suffices." Sherlock said, rather curtly as he snatched his coat up. "As I said, I will be back later. If Doctor Watson does arrive before me, do let him in and make him some tea or, something. I'm sure it would be appreciated."

He had read and re-read the letter several times in the taxi, it was very brief and to the point. It was something Sherlock had expected, he was aware being the only Consulting Detective would make him a source of great interest for some people. The only issue would be whether or not he replied to the letter. He noted the lack of name, detail about the person and the P.O box address at the top. This person was not keen on being known, and even to the simplest mind the letter would cause them to be wary. No, Sherlock did not wish to divulge the nature of his work or how he worked even. That was his business and his business alone. But secretly it gave him a small thrill that someone out there had noticed him. This could be an interesting exchange between them, if this 'fan' turned out to be as smart as they claimed.


End file.
